


Getting the PhD

by theFemPrince



Category: Prototype (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Gender-neutral Reader, One-sided at first, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Reader-Insert, actually it will change, because Alex usually avoids that stuff, because right now its just language, but there will be smut and fluff, domestic life too later on, no virus or gentek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-30 06:19:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10156025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theFemPrince/pseuds/theFemPrince
Summary: You’re a grad student at the University of New York. To help pay for your tuition, you’ve taken an on-campus job as a Teaching Assistant for the freshman biology course. You expected the professor to be some boring old doctor. That wasn’t the case.This is how you wound up with a cynical scientist boyfriend.





	1. New Year, New Job

**Author's Note:**

> When I first had this idea I wanted to call it 'Hot For Teacher' but it's been used so many times and I like 'Getting the PhD' better especially cause you can take away the Ph and the fic stays the same. The internet needs more Alex/Reader and I'm keeping the reader gender neutral. All the gay Protoype fics are Protocreed and while I'm not opposed to that I want some more variety. But I'm tired of so much heteronormativity in Reader Inserts. But I'm not ready to break from my comfort zone of writing from the perspective of someone who is AFAB/has a vagina. I also don't want to bring this into OC territory by making the Reader a trans man like me. So I'm gonna leave it gender-flexible for everyone!  
> I'm done rambling now. Enjoy?

Most people your age spend New Year’s Day fighting a hangover in their pajamas. Other years you had been in that situation as well. Unfortunately, you had to start working for the next semester. Working towards a doctorate in evolutionary biology certainly isn’t cheap. Your partial scholarship covered your first three semesters of grad school, but it wasn’t going to last through your required textbooks for this next one. Your financial aid was going straight to your rent. Luckily, the undergraduate biology department was always hiring teaching assistants. Two letters of recommendation later, you were offered to work in one of the many Biology 100 courses for Spring semester. The course you were assigned was a late addition to the schedules. Section 23, Mondays and Wednesdays at 10am, and the professor: simply listed as TBA. It wasn’t until yesterday morning that you received an email regarding the class.

 

The class was to be led by Dr. Alexander J. Mercer, whose name you hadn’t recognized from your previous semesters. Dr. Mercer asked to meet with you as soon as possible to coordinate the course outline. Meaning, he did not have it all planned out and ready.  _ Maybe this is his first time teaching the course?  _ And with classes starting next week, there really wasn’t time to waste. So here you are, at 9 in the morning on January 1st, in a small family-owned coffee shop in Midtown, trying to figure out which of the patrons is the professor.

 

Your train of thought ended as the barista called your name. You walk up to the counter to accept your coffee. “Here’s your Hazelnut latte,” the teenage barista said with a smile.

 

“Thanks,” you said. “Umm, I’m not sure if you would know, but I’m supposed to meet an Alexander here.”  _ Worth a shot, right?  _

 

The barista tilted her head in thought. “We do have an Alex who’s a regular here, but he always sits alone. He did come in ten minutes ago,” she paused to scan the room. “Oh, there he is. The man by the window with his laptop.”

 

You follow the teenager’s gaze to a man in a brown jacket typing lazily.  _ That can’t be right, he looks more like a student. _ For a moment you just observe him, trying to discern if he could be Dr. Mercer. He looks rather young, 30 at most. Maybe he just looks younger than he is. Still, you wonder how long he’s had his PhD, if this is even the right person of course. He must have sensed your staring, as he shifts his gaze to you.  _ Fuck, now I gotta go introduce myself. _ You turn and thank the young barista with a smile and walk over to the man’s table.

 

“Sorry,” you begin. “I didn’t mean to bother, but I’m trying to find an Alexander Mercer.”

 

The man nods while keeping his steel blue eyes on you.  _ Oh shit he has pretty eyes.  _ “Well, you found him. You must be my teaching assistant, then.”  _ Fuck, he IS the professor!  _

 

Forcing a smile, you hold out your right hand. “It’s nice to meet you, professor.”

 

He laughs, “Right, I gotta get used to that now.” He finally takes your hand and gives it a curt shake. “I apologize, I just graduated last semester. Originally I was just going to conduct research for the university, but last minute they wanted me to teach as well.”

 

_ Huh, that explains a lot.  _ Taking the seat across from him, you comment, “I’ll be honest, I did think you were a student when I saw you. What was your concentration?”

 

“Microbiology. I focused my dissertation on strain variations of the common cold. As much as I like to talk about it, the course outline needs attention.”

 

You nod, “Right, of course.”

 

Dr. Mercer turns his laptop to the side so that you both can see the screen. “Here is a rough draft of the syllabus. The course schedule is spaced at a chapter per week, plus finals week and the first week. Of course, February has a couple of federal holidays, so I intend to start lectures the first day. I know a lot of professors allow the first week to gather required texts and materials, but in my opinion that’s wasting time that the students are paying for.”

 

“I agree, actually. Not to mention the class will mostly be freshmen who are still getting used to the fast pace of college. Better to have an extra week at the end to review than to do nothing in the beginning.”

 

Pleased with your response, the young professor continued on. “The university updates the online course platform tomorrow morning. We’ll be given access to the roster and email list, and be able to notify the students to be ready for a full lecture as well as send them the syllabus ahead of time.”

 

“What edition is the textbook now?” you ask.

 

“Eleventh. It has 15 chapters, but they’re more in depth than what is needed. So the course will still be 13 chapters, just like the last seven years.” He pauses to sip his coffee, and you notice the eyeglasses sitting at the edge of the table. “Now, for grading; I’m inclined to have the quizzes and midterm online. I realize students can just flip through the book while taking it, but that doesn’t bother me. Your thoughts?”

 

It surprised you that he was asking for your input on how to run the class. Then again, until now he was a grad student like you. “I guess, at least that way it’s less pressure on them to memorize the information. You know, so each chapter they aren’t just regurgitating what you tell them. And maybe leaving them that option will encourage them to pick up the book for more than just the assigned readings.”  _ As long as the final isn’t online too.  _ “Though I think the midterm should be taken as seriously as the final,” you add.

 

“Probably,” he says. “It is only a general ed class, so maybe a third of the students will actually be pursuing life sciences. Which is why I’m not really concerned with grading harshly and expecting them to soak up the information. But this is college, and the freshmen should be exposed to the consistent severity of exams.”

 

_ This professor is really easy-going. I feel like I’m talking to someone my own age.  _ “You seem pretty laid back about having to teach a course with over a hundred students on such short notice,” you say, with a playful tone. Dr. Mercer slightly frowns at that.  _ Shit, I got too comfortable! Dammit, dammit, I screwed up!  _

 

Mercer takes a long drink from his cup. At last he says, “I’m just the type to be at ease with my work amidst the stress of everyday things. So, yeah, I’m not anxious about these things.”

 

_ Social anxiety? The barista did imply that he’s a loner.  _ “Sorry, that was too casual of me.”

 

He makes a dismissal wave and continues, “I’ll be spending the week creating the quizzes and exams. When they’re finished I’ll email them to you along with the answer keys so you can assist with the grading workload. The textbook publisher has a basic powerpoint outline for each chapter, so I’ll be using those during lectures.”

 

You take time to drink your coffee as your brain processes the subject change. “Okay, sounds good,” you respond. “Anything else we need to go over?”

 

“I am going to have a space for office hours during the quarter,” Mercer says. “It’ll be the little conference room in the general biology department office. Unfortunately it’s by appointment unless you happen to be there while I’m there, and the room turns out to be empty. Which really takes some luck.”

 

“They expect a course section with a hundred freshmen to manage like that?”

 

Dr. Mercer cracks a grin. “Not really, but since I’m only teaching one class I can’t get my own office space. Which has been hard to come by as is.” He finishes his coffee and closes his laptop. “That’s it then. We’ll be in touch over email mostly.”

 

You stand up with your to-go cup. “Alright, so I’ll see you next week.” He nods in return as he places his eyeglasses to his face.  _ Dammit those glasses are really going for him.  _ In an effort to squash that thought, you turn to the door and take your leave.

 

-

 

It’s the first day of the semester. You’ve finally resigned to your fate of having been stuck with a very attractive young professor as your boss. You arrive at the lecture hall 15 minutes early, a first-day habit of yours since you were a freshman. A few young adults, probably enrolled in the course, also waited outside the door. The 8am class was wrapping up, students pouring out in waves. You entered after most had left, walking down to the podium and projector.

 

The previous lecture’s professor smiled as she passed you. “All yours, Doctor.” You look behind, thinking she was addressing Mercer and you hadn’t noticed him come in. He wasn’t there, and you realized she thought you were the young doctor. She was too far for you to correct her now.

 

Each moment doubled your dread that a student would come to ask you questions.  _ Where the hell is he? Okay, chill, you probably have the answer to whatever questions might come up before he gets here. Besides, we sent out an email last week. They should know what to expect.  _ It’s six minutes until 10am when Dr. Mercer walks in with a messenger bag.  _ Probably the one he used as a student. _

 

He offers you a polite smile that almost makes you melt. “Thanks for being here early,” he says. The doctor pulls out a USB flashdrive and sets up the powerpoint notes. “Would you mind getting their attention? Just say that we’ll be starting once the hour hits and to be ready to take notes.”

  
You nod and step up to the mic on the podium, then clear your throat. “Good morning, everyone. I am not your professor; I’m actually the teaching assistant for this course section. Dr. Mercer will be starting his lecture right at 10 o’clock, so have your notebooks out.” You look to Mercer as he fumbles with the projector. He catches your gaze and gives a quick thumbs up. Feeling reassured, you step away and relax your shoulders.


	2. Just A Crush, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your email sure is blowing up this weekend.   
> -  
> So I'm going to keep the reader gender neutral and probably just write smut details as dfab reader. Sorry this took a while and thanks for reading!

_ Five weeks done, ten to go.  _ You finished the assignments for your own classes and logged onto the course platform to start grading quizzes for Biology 100. Thankfully, being a teaching assistant didn’t add too much to your usual workload. At least not the way Alex Mercer ran the course. He also checked on your progress frequently, even offering to take up the grading if you ever needed more time for your own studies.  _ So considerate; of course, he’s only teaching one course so it’s not like he’s being overworked like a lot of professors are.  _ Your browser pinged at a new email. Tabbing over to your inbox, you see it’s from the man you were just thinking about. Not like that was uncommon, thinking about him. But damn, you are 24 years old with a silly crush on a man who is not only a professor, but your boss? All kinds of messed up right there. Let’s face it, you never even dated before. Always far too busy with school to maintain anything romantic. You have had a couple hook ups over the years, just to try it, see what the big fuss is about. Nothing spectacular, in fact you preferred masturbation.

 

_ Right, email.  _ Alex Mercer sent you the midterm for any suggestions before finalizing it. No rush, of course. It was relatively short, only fifty questions. No problem, just add to the to-do list for tonight and still have the weekend free. You tab back to the course platform and set to grading quizzes.

 

About three hours later you finish the quizzes and take a look at the midterm. Rubbing your eyes, you decide that a break would do you good. You stand up and walk to the kitchenette in your studio apartment, then pour yourself a glass of water.  _ Already almost time for midterms. And after week seven it’ll be spring break. Too bad I don’t have plans this year.  _ You set the now empty cup down and return to your laptop. The midterm Alex wrote up is simple, multiple choice questions that aren’t painfully obvious yet not difficult. And everything can be found in the students’ notes, assuming that student took notes. As long as the students are paying attention in the lectures and reviewing their notes, they should all achieve satisfactory grades. You email Dr. Mercer back to inform him that the midterm is good as is.

 

_ What time is it anyway? Damn, not even 9pm yet.  _ Your computer pings with another email from Alex Mercer.

 

If you’re still interested, the Journal of Virology has accepted my dissertation and posted my manuscript online. This link will take you to the full PDF. 

-Alex

 

You’ve been itching for some academic reading material, but you hadn’t asked about Alex’s dissertation since you met some weeks ago. Come to think of it, he did not explicitly ask if you wanted to read it. Was he hoping you would? Of course, you did want to read it but you were hesitant to ask outright. Even setting the little crush aside, you were curious about what he could be researching for the University.  _ Diseases, probably. Sounds morbid, but a lot of good can come from that field.  _ Going back to your crush, if Alex was hoping you were interested in his work then it was possible he saw you as more than a teaching assistant. It could be as simple as a potential future colleague. You knew it was unwise to hope for more than a possible friendship.

 

_ That’s it, I need a distraction.  _ You open a new tab on your browser and search up weird science videos. After a bit of scrolling, you settle for an hour long compilation of Mythbusters highlights.

 

-

 

You brought your laptop to that coffee shop in Midtown, which had become your favorite spot. The teenage girl whose parents ran the shop remembered you and your tastes. Hazelnut was your usual, though this time you opted for a seasonal specialty. Once you had your coffee, you set up against the back wall and started reading.

 

You had only finished reading the introduction when your eyes drifted towards the door. A spunky auburn haired girl walked in followed by-  _ Holy shit, is that Alex?  _ Keeping your head down, you try to focus on reading. Sure, you wanted to be friendly, invite him over to the table and chat. Except he was not alone, and you did not want to intrude on what you hoped wasn’t a date.  _ It’s probably not a date.  _ You steal a glance at the girl again.  _ She is cute though. Seems young too. Stop it, just keep reading.  _ Rather, you stared at the same paragraph trying not to look as awkward as you felt.

 

“Well, look who’s here,” Alex started, causing you to jump at his sudden close proximity. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Though when you finally looked at him he seemed very amused.

 

“Uhh, no it’s fine. I guess I was really focused on this,” you gesture to your laptop.

 

Alex stares at your laptop screen for a moment.  _ Fuck, he’s going to recognize it. I mean he wanted me to read it anyway. It’s not going to weird.  _ He speaks up, pulling you from your panicked thoughts. “That looks like my dissertation.”

 

“Probably because it is,” you deadpan.  _ Real smooth, dummy. _

 

He laughs, but it’s a genuine laugh that you haven’t heard from him yet. “Then I’d probably let you pick my brain on it some time.”

 

Before you can try reading into the intentions of the offer, the girl Alex arrived with walks over with two mugs in hand. “Are we sitting here?”

 

“I don’t mind,” you say. “Company would do me some good.”

 

She smiles and sets the mugs down. “Thanks. I’m Dana, Alex’s sister.” You shake her hand.

 

Alex grabs his mug and frowns at Dana. “No cream?”

 

“Since when do you use cream? Every morning you drink it black,” Dana leans toward you and loudly whispers, “Like his soul.” You stifle a chuckle.

 

“Only on the days when I work,” Alex explains. “Plus, here they use cream that none of the nearby stores sell. So excuse me while I go add cream.”

 

As he turns, Dana adds, “Say cream again,” to which Alex just groans. “So,” she begins again, sitting down next to you. “How do you know my big brother?”

 

“I’m his TA at the university.”

 

Dana nods as she sips from her mug. “Are you microbiology too?”

 

You shake your head. “Evolutionary biology. What about you?”

 

“Communications,” she says. “I might minor in computer sciences for fun. But, between you and me, I know it’ll come in handy as an investigative journalist.”

 

“No hacking from my apartment,” Alex says as he sits down. Dana sticks out her tongue at him.

 

“You should start putting your work online early,” you tell her. “For practice, or to double as a portfolio.”

 

Dana grins, “Way ahead of you. I started a blog in high school where I review horror genre media. The first few entries are kind of garbage but then the quality jumps up. Alex is there for guest commentary when it’s a movie.”

 

“I bet he ruins all of the outbreak movies,” you say.

 

Alex smirks against his mug. “If it’s an impossible scenario, it’s not nearly as scary. Sure, vampires and zombies pique our imagination. But if the goal is to leave the viewer terrified, it has to be realistic.”

 

“Wow,” Dana says with palpable sarcasm, “so edgy.” You almost choke on your coffee.

 

“We probably should get going though, Dana.”

 

Dana exhales, “Right, weekly errands and shit.” She finishes off her mug.

 

“It was great meeting you,” you say. “And nice to see you outside of a lecture hall, Alex.”

 

“Likewise,” he returns with a soft smile that makes you hold your breath.  _ Wow, I am weak.  _ You drain your own mug as the pair take their leave.

 

-

 

_ Frozen pizza for dinner again,  _ you thought.  _ I should get groceries tomorrow.  _ As the toaster oven prepared your meal, you returned to your desk to check your laptop. There were a few emails to attend to. Your Monday afternoon class was cancelled, that professor had to go out of town for a very last minute panel. A student in the Bio 100 class emailed you and Alex asking if a midterm study guide would be available. Alex had already answered, stating the importance of the lecture notes and the need to review them. The third email was from Alex, actually, with no subject line. You click on the email.

 

Hey, it’s actually Dana. I found this one scary movie on Amazon Video, and we’re going to watch it tonight for my blog. You don’t have to if it’s not your thing, but I wanted to invite you. Alex doesn’t hang out with a lot of people but he seems pretty comfortable around you. Hope you see this in time! Here’s my cell number, let me know? Oh and by the way, we’ll be watching The Descent. If you’ve seen it, no spoilers!

 

The last email was again from Alex, with the subject line: Sorry.

 

I apologize for my meddling little sister. Though I do enjoy your company. And the invite still stands. I may be awkward but I’m not a straight up dick.

Okay that wording was not the best. But I’m leaving it there for comedic effect.

Here’s my cell number as well. Just call if you’re interested in the movie. We’ll start at 8:00.

-Alex

 

_ Holy shit.  _ You look at the clock at the corner of the screen. 7:05.  _ Fuck I gotta hurry.  _ The toaster oven dings, and you rush to wrap it in a napkin to take with you. You run back to your laptop to save Alex’s and Dana’s numbers. Then you grab your coat and go lace on your boots.  _ Right, don’t forget to call. _ You pull your phone out again to do so.


	3. Nothing Like A Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected movie night with some bonding, kind of like a date. This isn't really a date though. But you kind of wish it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mild spoilers for the horror movie The Descent. I kept the commentary to scenes in the first half of the movie but still. It's actually the first horror movie to give me nightmares and I watch a ton of horror movies. Course, I can watch it and laugh now that I've seen it so many damn times.  
> Also, there's some mildly feels-y bonding at the end. Enjoy!

It’s 7:50 when the cab leaves you outside Alex’s building. You hurry inside to get out of the rain which only started minutes prior. As promised, Alex was waiting for you in the lobby. He thanked you for accepting the last minute invite as the two of you took an elevator. The ride up to the nineteenth floor was quiet, though not an uncomfortable silence. Usually you were terrible at small talk anyway, and it was some miracle you didn’t betray any nervousness.  _ I’m just watching a movie with him and his sister,  _ you reminded yourself.

 

As Alex opened the door to his apartment, you were greeted with a buttery scent. “Good,” Alex said, “Dana made the popcorn.” He gestured to the modest living room. “Make yourself comfortable.”

 

“Thanks,” you smile. “Hey, Dana!”

 

Dana hops up from the couch and greets you with a bowl of popcorn. “Glad you’re here! I’ve been bugging people to join us for movie night since I moved in. You wouldn’t believe how snobby everyone’s been about it.”

 

You raise an eyebrow. “Snobby as in too busy trying to get into frat parties?”

 

“Which,” Dana says, “Isn’t even difficult. They always ask ‘you gonna have booze?’ How am I supposed to properly judge a horror movie if I’m drinking? But when I say it’s not like that, they lose interest.”

 

“Sometimes when first years move away for school they get this party craze,” you say. “Another year and anything can be a party, even communal napping.”

 

Dana snickers, “That sounds a bit exaggerated.”

 

Alex flops onto the sofa. “It’s true, Dana. The highlight of my junior year spring break was planning on going to Bodies: the Exhibition with the biology club and just passing out inside the library instead because the tickets sold out for that day.”

 

“Of course, sleeping is your favorite part of any break,” Dana chides. “Alright, movie time!” She takes a seat on the floor in front of the couch and pulls out a recording device. You join Alex on the couch. “We’re recording, press play, Alex.”

 

-

 

“No! That right there is bullshit! Freak accident my ass, he didn’t even try to drive,” you shout at the television. Dana laughs at your intense commentary.

 

“It’s a traumatic exposition, which sets a good foundation,” Alex says.

 

“They all got fucking impaled!”

 

Dana reaches her hand back to tap your knee. “No, look, the blonde is fine. Well, physically I mean.” The protagonist cries in the hospital hallway on screen.

 

-

 

“Huh,” Dana says, “I didn’t know spelunking was could be so mentally stressful. Hallucinations? Really?”

 

Alex takes a drink of his soda pop. “Our brains can really fuck us up over nothing.”

 

“Well this is a horror movie, so it’s not going to be ‘nothing,’” you say. “What was the movie synopsis?”

 

Dana turns her head towards you, “Nope, no summaries beforehand. It’s gotta be a surprise.”

 

“Let’s bet on it then,” you suggest.

 

“It’s definitely utilizing psychological horror,” Alex says. “I’m gonna go with cave-in and turning against each other trying to figure out a way through. Like an underground Lord of the Flies.”

 

Dana hums in thought. “I’m going to guess that there’s this cult hiding in the caves and they kidnap the girls.”

 

“Those are both good,” you muse. “But throwing in cannibalism would be infinitely better.”

 

Alex stares at you for a moment. “So these friends eat each other? Or the cult eats them? Usually characters getting eaten on screen is left to zombie movies.”

 

“I like that idea actually,” Dana says. “I hope there’s cannibalism.”

 

-

 

You cringe at the sight of what’s-her-name’s leg bone sticking out. When the other girl pushes it back inside you curl on yourself. Alex rubs your shoulder, and you’re not sure if it’s a teasing way or a comforting way.

 

“Okay,” Dana mumbles, pushing away her popcorn. “That was disgusting.”

 

You look back up at the screen after a minute, in time to see the protagonist pointing her flashlight about a tunnel. “What the fucking hell?!?”

 

Dana bounces on the floor. “Ooooohhhh shit, did you see that, Alex?”

 

“There’s fucking cave monsters,” Alex nods. “Cannibalism looks pretty likely now.” You groan. It’s been a long time since a movie actually scared you.

 

-

 

The credits are rolling and you just now realize you’ve moved closer to Alex at some point. “That was pretty good,” he says.

 

“That was terrifying,” you plainly respond.

 

Dana clicks her recording device and looks back to you. “Yeah, you look pretty spooked.”

 

“I know I bet on cannibalism,” you say, “But that was a whole lot of goddamn cannibalism. And a literal pool of blood and guts? Why?”

 

Alex laughs quietly. “Sorry, I just thought: that takes ‘bathing in the blood of your enemies’ to a whole new level.”

 

“These aren’t vampires,” Dana says. “Though that scene did feel a lot like the one in the shitty sequel for 30 Days of Night.”

 

“Don’t remind me of that disaster,” Alex groans.

 

You raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t know there was a sequel. That bad, huh?”

 

Dana stands up and stretches as she responds. “It just sucked, pun intended by the way. And the rotten cherry on top was this rushed and frankly pointless sex scene. I didn’t need to see that with my brother. But at least now I know up against the wall is a real thing.”

 

Alex promptly stands up and heads into the kitchen. “I’m going to drink to forget you saying that, Dana.”

 

“I am an adult, you know,” she calls back.  _ Did this conversation really just go there?  _

 

“Still my baby sister,” he says, pulling a bottle of whiskey out of a cabinet. “By nine fucking years.”

 

You peak at the bottle, recognizing it as a brand you like. “You weren’t kidding about drinking right now.”

 

Alex shrugs as he reaches for glassware. “Only having one glass. You want some?”

 

“Sure, I’ll bite,” you answer.

 

“Well,” Dana says, “I’m going to start writing my review while the movie is fresh in my mind.”

 

“Have fun,” Alex calls. “And don’t get eaten.” Dana blows a raspberry as she closes her bedroom door.

 

Alex sits back down as he hands you a glass of whiskey. “I don’t have any siblings, but you and Dana are making me wish I did,” you tell him.

 

“Don’t be fooled,” Alex says, then pauses to take a drink. “Dana and I had an unpleasant childhood. I blamed her for my unhappiness at first.” You watch him, waiting for him to continue. “It’s a really long story, I won’t subject you to it.”

 

“Aww, but you already brought out the alcohol,” you laugh. “I mean, if you don’t want to talk about you don’t have to. We could change the subject.”

 

He considers, “Then again, it feels cliche to share my past over drinks. The good kind of cliche. Like it’s fitting.”

 

You hold up your glass to toast, “I can share mine afterwards, to make it fair.”

 

Alex meets his glass to yours. “Deal. Hope yours is happy, though. Wouldn’t want to end on a negative note.”

 

“It really is bad, isn’t it?”

 

“My whole life had a bad start, so yeah.” Alex sips before continuing. “My mother was pretty far along her pregnancy with me when my father died. They weren’t married, might have been at least engaged by then but I wouldn’t know. She never talked about him, wouldn’t even tell me his name. He’s not listed on my birth certificate, either. And I wouldn’t have known my mother if she stayed out of my life.”

 

“Your mom wasn’t the one who raised you?”

 

He shook his head. “Gave me up the day I was born. I grew up in foster care, bounced between a lot of homes. And I finally got put with this great family when I was nine.” Alex smiles, “We would come to Central Park a lot. They were good people, kind and patient with me when I became anxious. And uh, well they were going to adopt me. Wanted to have that finalized by my tenth birthday.”

 

You take a drink as Alex sits on that statement. “I’m guessing it didn’t work out,” you say.

 

“No. My mother shows up, with this baby girl, and decides she wants her son back since she’s keeping her second child.”

 

“Dana is your half sister, then?”

 

Alex nods. “Although, I did most of the raising her part. Dana’s father wasn’t around except through paying child support and setting up her college fund. And our mother was juggling two jobs for everything else. I don’t know why she had to take me back, Dana would have had a better childhood if she was the only kid needing support. Mother was always stressed, too. And she would take that stress out on me. I hated being in that house, but I feared for Dana if I wasn’t there. I finally left for college, and I hoped Dana would be able to handle herself without me. In a way, I wonder if it was right to make her grow up the same age I had to. I was ten when I had to raise her, and she was ten when I left.”

 

You set down your drink and cautiously place your hand on his wrist. “You don’t seem to resent Dana.”

 

His eyes seem focused on something far away. “Dana is the only person I’ve ever really cared about. As far as I am concerned, she is all the family I have.” Alex finishes off his drink. “Well, I warned you, didn’t I?”

 

“That you did,” you say, downing your own glass.

  
“Now it’s your turn,” Alex says with a small smile.


End file.
